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Halloween Bad Girl
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I am having one of those days. I decided to get out there this morning to work on the 2nd cemetery column. Just as I get the dremel out, start sanding on the column, my 6yr old comes outside and says mommy I want a halloween project to do.. OK I tell her to go change and get some old clothes on. 2 minutes later, I can't find old clothes. OK so I have to stop yet again, and go help find old clothes.

I get her to painting on my brand new tombstone project. I look over and she has paint 1/2 inch thick on it.. (I keep my mouth shut and shake my head). Mommy I am out of paint, jeez I just got started once again. OK lets stop and get more paint.. She has enough on the top for two coats on the whole thing..

Finally I get her settled and I get into the grove of sanding and removing styrofoam (this is where I am going to have the brick work), OK now it is time to flip this baby onto its side. Check, done. Dang now I need to move it closer to the tools, oh and the outdoor fan. Look around honey is cutting tree limbs, hate to bother him. I'll ask my 6yr old, I mean this thing is styrofoam and it isn't heavy.

She comes over and grabs the bottom, I have the top and we move it, Just as I am telling her gently sit her end down...BAM, she drops her end..I sit my end down and walk over.. Yep it has about 4 sections that have come unglued and another couple of sections that have some cracks... My husband comes over and says honey is there anything I can help you do.. My daughter is apologizing. I am hot, tired, and cranky. All I can do is go inside and cool off.

This little incident just set me back about 4 bucks for more liquid nails, which I have to drive 30 minute to town to purchase . Another hour to repair the cracks, and loose boards. Then more sanding, to even out those areas. Then start back right where I was.. AARRGGGHHH.

So that's where you guys come in, only you would know what and how this feels... FRUSTRATING.

Does anyone else have a bad day story like this.
 

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My 2 year old loves to come out in the garage with me when I am working. It is a little frustrating at times because I spend just as much time cattering to her as I work. And there is only so much you can do after she is bed because alot of it requires power tools. But then I remember that I do this for her, so we can have something that we can do together. Sure beats playing house!

She did get under my skin one day, for about 10 seconds. ;) Over the winter I created a mold and perfected a process of making foam skulls from great stuff through trial and error. I now have 30 or so made and am in the process of painting / preping for my walk through fence. Well anyhow, I turn around at one point to find her off in the corner pealing chunks of foam off one of my better skulls. ><
 

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I was assaulted by 3 neighbor kids one day, 4, 6, and 9. They were all amazed at the projects I had and wanted detailed explanations of all. The 4 yo was easy enough to keep distracted. The 6 yo had a thousand ideas on how to add blood to everything. The 9 yo had a glimmer in his eye and wanted to be my assistant. My work slowed to a snails pace as I had to explain everything, keep them from touching the knife and hot glue gun, and keep their hands out of my spare parts bin.

I cut up some pool noodle and gave them each a piece to mess with, but that didn't last long. Eventually I kicked them out of the garage and had them play in the front yard. My wife watched from the house door with a slight smirk, as I gave her the "get these kids outa here" look.

My 6 yo daughter only bothers me once in a while, she is still sort of intimidated by the props.

Even though it is completely frustrating to be interrupted, your daughter probably enjoys being "Mommies Little Helper".

With my daughter, if there is a catastrophe caused by her, we sit and look at it then talk about a way to fix it. She is usually the one that comes up with an idea - and even though it might not work, I kiss and thank her for helping me fix it then get her attention on something else. Yea, I'm set back in time, money, and effort, but my daughter walks away feeling good about helping dad, and that's worth more than anything. :)
 

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Once I was prepping my graveyard in my backyard (during the off season to test some ambieance effects out) and my little brother kept wanting to knock over the already barely standing tombstones. Needless to say, I was a bit miffed and told him to tend with his coin collection. A little less epic than everyone else's but I seem to not be bothered when making props.
 

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Good Ghoul Gone Bad
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All of my "kids" have 4 legs and when they bother me, they get put into a cage. Never was brave enough to try the 2 legged kind, so kudos to those who are. I'm afraid if I had a little one that pestered me while working on Halloween projects, we'd have to play little games like "here, lets try to make you into a saran-wrap mummy (concentrating the wrap over the mouth) or "lets see how good you look in my new coffin with some dirt on top". (just kidding, of course)

No wonder I don't have real kids. I feel your pain, though, so hang in there. Or you could just give them a little Nyquil in their sippy cup :)
 

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livin Halloween every day
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Unfortunately i have learned this lesson very quickly. If you are a prop builder there will always be something that you have to guy buy that you need, or another adjustment to make to get it just right. You will need 4 2" bolts and only have 3.There will always be something. But that just makes it all the sweeter when i see it on halloween night in all it's glory and remember the funand challanges i had in creating it.
 

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I might have made a mistake in letting a neighbor help me paint because all thru the night she had her hands on anything I was trying to make after that. She's mentally/physically handicapped and a wheelchair poses a big obstacle but I can escape to my backyard if I need to.
Little ones are easily amused with a hunk of foam,hammer and roofing nails. They will pound those things and remove them all night long :)
 

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Devilishly Dutch
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All of my "kids" have 4 legs and when they bother me, they get put into a cage. Never was brave enough to try the 2 legged kind, so kudos to those who are. I'm afraid if I had a little one that pestered me while working on Halloween projects, we'd have to play little games like "here, lets try to make you into a saran-wrap mummy (concentrating the wrap over the mouth) or "lets see how good you look in my new coffin with some dirt on top". (just kidding, of course)

No wonder I don't have real kids. I feel your pain, though, so hang in there. Or you could just give them a little Nyquil in their sippy cup :)
Hahaha booberrie, you sure would have some realistic props :D
 

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Oh yeah its a real pain when I'm in the garage and my boy has some friends over they seem to just hang out in the garage talk to me non stop while My boy is working on their bikes. The thing that really chaps my !%#[email protected]! is they constantly like to pick up stuff without asking. I guess we have too many interesting items out in our garage. Funny thing is they only come around when I am in deep thought on my next addition to my current project.
 

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Yup I get interrupted all the time with pesky things like laundry, dinner, garbage, dog, etc, etc. Just be thankful we still have 2 months left. :)
 

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Mill Creek Haunted Hollow
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The project that never was . . . because of my girls. :eek:

A sunny day in June. Not too hot, not too cool. Blue sky abounds, birds chirp, morning dew fades into the green grass. Its 8am and a perfect day for prop building.

My three girls are sitting around the television watching the Disney channel and my very pregnant wife is sleeping in upstairs. I have my coffee, head into the garage, and start looking around to see what I can build today. It's a wonderful feeling.

I'm in the middle of several projects, but this morning I think I'll take a break from the big builds and use some of the scrap styrofoam I have and build a simple prop. A graveyard obelisk. Nothing too grand, just a three foot high obelisk.

I get started. Of course, to get started means I need to clean up the garage a bit, make sure all my tools are where I need them to be, and I need to collect all the loose bits of styrofoam to see what I can actually build.

9am: tools in order, path carved out of the garage, stack of styrofoam odds and ends. At this point, my oldest daughter (#1, age 12) comes out. "Dad, Elly (#3, age 2) doesn't want to watch Disney channel anymore."

My response, "Okay, why don't you turn the tv off and play with her in the sunroom?"

Good, good. Problem solved. Now to start putting these styro pieces together. Measure, sketch, draw, measure, cut, measure, cut, dry fit, measure . . . all is looking good. Radio playing, Xacto blades are sharp, things are coming together.

10am: Samantha (#2, age 5) comes out, "Whatcha doing? Can I help?"

My response, "Oh, honey, not right now. I'm just trying to put things together right now, and then I need to glue. Maybe this afternoon you can help me paint while Elly (#3) is down for her nap? Okay?"

To my good fortune, her response is, "okay". Whew! Lucky break, now back to work on this beautiful Saturday morning with the clear skies and chirping birds and tunes on the radio and, oh, coffee's cold. All right, I'm doing good. Time for a refill, I'll just go inside.

When I come in from the garage, my wife is standing next to the coffee pot. "Oh, good morning honey. Did you sleep well?" Of course, I know better than to ask my wife this when she is nine months pregnant. She asks me if the coffee is decaf, "yes, of course, I know you can't have caffeine right now."

I spend the next 15 minutes chatting with my wife about how hard it is to sleep on one's side, and how the little wiggle-bug kept her up, and how her back hurts, her feet hurt, and she felt she HAD to come downstairs because the girls were making too much noise in the sunroom.

"Okay, honey, you know I love you. Have your coffee, enjoy some breakfast, and here's the morning paper. Love you; sorry you don't feel tip-top, I'll go tell the girls to not be so loud." I say in my most honest, I love you and I understand voice.

"Girls, keep it down! Mom's up and she didn't sleep well. Sam (#2), get off Elly(#3)! Kylara (#1), why aren't you helping?" I say in my authoritative dad voice.

"Um, I think Elly is poopy" is my oldest daughter's response.

"Ok, I'll change her." I proceed to work with the girls while my wife has her coffee. I change a diaper, get everyone dressed, start a load of laundry, wash a messy face, dust buster a cereal spill, etc.

Now I look at the clock, hoping I can get back to working on the obelisk. Crap, it's already 11 o'clock? Where is this morning going???

I duck out to the garage and finish cutting the main sides of the obelisk. I'm proud of what I have accomplished. Four sides, all lining up, excess styrofoam has been shaved away, masking tape is helping to hold things together while the glue dries. I think to myself, "I'll let the glue dry and go make lunch for the girls."

Come back into the house from the garage to find my wife dressed and ready to go, #1 trying to put a coat on #3, and #2 is still in the sunroom playing with an audio book. "Hey, Honey, what's going on?" I ask.

"Elly (#3) is being a real drain. She won't stop climbing over Sammy (#2) and Kylara (#1) has to be at a friend's house at noon for a party." Says my pregnant wife.

"Party? What party?" I ask.

"Dad, you know. I'm supposed to go over to _____'s house for the mexican party today. We're all going to make different mexican foods and play games and stuff." Says my 12 year old in her most innocent voice.

"Okay, okay. I didn't realize that was today (actually, I didn't know anything about it. Damn girls with their cell phones). Tell you what, you drive #1 over to her party and I'll make lunch for Sam and Elly. How does that sound?"

"Oh, that would be wonderful. If you don't mind, could you just feed them lunch and then put Elly down for her nap? I need to go to the store anyway," says my wife.

So now my support structure is gone, and I'm outmanned with a two year old and a five year old. Okay, this is fine, I can do this. The glue is drying, I'll just make some lunch -- something quick -- ah-hah! Hot dogs. It's a perfect day for hotdogs, and we even have buns!

Cut to the chase, for those of you who know, trying to make lunch for a picky eater and a messy eater is difficult. "I want a bun, I don't want a bun, I want ketchup, I want my hotdog cut up, I want applesauce, can I have juice, I dropped my hotdog, ketchup can double as finger paint . . . some of you have surely been there.

Lunch is done, Elly is washed off, and now it's time for a nap. A binky and a quick story -- off you go. No fuss, no muss.

Stop crying -- it's just a nap. You take a nap every day. This shouldn't be a big deal. C'mon kid, stop banging on the door. Why are you still crying? Okay, here's a daddy hug and some kisses and I'll tuck you in again and here's your bear and please be a good girl and take your nap. Where's your sister?

My five year old, with incredibly selective memory, took it upon herself to get her painting clothes on and go out to the garage. Fortunately, she can't open a can of paint, but she can run around in the garage and stop on bits of styrofoam and play with the caulking gun to make, "little white worms".

Okay, okay, this is fine, I can work with this! It's only 12:30pm, I still have the rest of the afternoon. I can do this! (Sometimes the best thing to do is psych yourself up). I take the three foot tall obelisk out to the driveway so that Sammy can start painting. The glue has dried, it feels pretty stable, and I think painting is something she can handle. I give her a two inch brush and a sour cream container half full of grey paint. I figure she can paint while I get to work on the tiered base. So I'm back to measuring and cutting, listening to the radio, and enjoying a nice afternoon.

My five year old is in the driveway painting the obelisk, her shirt, the driveway, and a leaf -- for some reason. Okay, I can work with this. She's helping. The parenting books say it's important to include them. Let them think they're helping, give them a sense of accomplishment.

"Samantha, you're going a great job! Try painting the other side. No, the other side. No, not that one, the side that's still white. Yes, that side!! No, start at the top. No, honey, the top. THE TOP!!" At this point, the perfectionist in my forces me to stop building the base, and go "help" my five year old. She's happy to let me take over, since she's been focused on one task for more than ten minutes already. I finish painting the base coat on the obelisk and pride returns to my heart. Oh, that's looking good. I really like that. That's going to be great!

So, I take Sam inside to wash her hand, arms, and face. That's when I notice the grey paint in her hair. Okay, no big deal, I can do this. "You know what, Sammy, I think you need to take a bath." And that's what I proceed to do. I figure I can let the paint dry in the afternoon sun and give my five year old a quick bath to get the paint off her hands, arms, face, hair . . . and foot?

"How did you get paint on your foot" You were wearing shoes! Okay, never mind -- into the tub, I made bubbles! (by this, I mean a bubble bath)"

So #1 is off at a party, #2 is on the tub, and #3 is asleep for her nap. I'm juggling, but I'm actually getting things done. It's not too bad. I can wash up Sam, put her in front of a movie, and get back outside to continue working.

Oh crap! All of Sam's clothes are in her room -- which she shares with #3. And #3 is down for her nap. Okay, time to look around the house and see what clothes haven't been put away. Check the dryer -- nothing. Sun room? Ah, good, found a shirt. No pants, but a shirt is a good start.

So, I get Sam out of the sudsy tub, towel her off, put on her shirt and wrap a towel around her waist. That's when we hear the front door open. "Oh, good," I think, "my wife must be home from the store -- now she can help."

So Sam and I come out of the bathroom to great my wife. My wife tells me there are several bags of groceries in the back of the van and she could use my help unloading and . . . "Why is Sam is a towel?" she asks.

I then start to explain that Sam was helping me paint an obelisk that is currently drying in the driveway, she got really messy so I thought I should give her a bath, don't worry, Elly is down for her nap so we had the time . . . Wait a minute!!!!

"Didn't you see the obelisk in the driveway when you pulled up? It was right there in the driveway were you usually park the van!!"

That's when the three of us dash out the front door. My pregnant wife with a bag of groceries, myself with wet forearms and damp knees, and my five year old, who dashes out the front door wearing her t-shirt - but not her towel.

My wife thought it would be good to back the van into the driveway to make it easier to unload the groceries. She never saw the grey, three foot obelisk sitting in the middle of the driveway where she usually parks.

She ran over it. Not just knocking it over and getting it trapped under the car - no, no, that I could repair. She RAN IT OVER. Like some poor animal begging for me to finish it off, my still-drying obelisk was pinned under the rear passenger tire of the van. Flat, lifeless, with a faint streak of grey paint running up the tread of the tire.

I don't know how cried more that day, my five year old, or me.
 

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Fantastic read, TK. Sorry about your obelisk!

There have been times, in the past (and present) that I've had to tell my 10 year old "Your help isn't helping!", but there have also been times when she's been extremely helpful, and pretty clever with some helpful ideas! My garage floor still tells the tale of two 9 year old girls, 2 brushes, a gallon of black paint and 60 foot of cemetary fencing.
 

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Wonderful read there, TK421. I lived that with you. :) My then-5 year old once figured out a mechanical dilemma I had with a Chirstmas prop last year - the little darling.
 

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These are great stories. I only have four legged children myself. I do remember my mom telling me more than once she was gonna change her name to something other than mom so I must have been one of those helpful children.
 

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I love these stories.

I only have four legged children myself. I do remember my mom threatening to change her name from mom to anything else so my brother and I must have been "helpful" children too. I love being around my friends kids, but I get to give them back when I am tired. =)

My dad however had to have help with everything. He always wanted my mom to stand around and watch him fix or work on anything he was doing. I ended up doing the watching quite often since my mom had other things to do, like clean house, laundry and fix meals. I did learn quite a bit about how not to do things from my dad. If my mom said the problem with the car was the gas filter, my dad would fix about ten things before he would fix the gas filter.

My mom is the one who actually taught me to cook, bake and to use power tools. Whenever my dad was away (in was in the service) that's when my mom would fix everything he had been working on. I had the only mom who bought dad a drill so she could use it herself.
 

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Foolish Mortal
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I have days like that all the time. But my kids are teenagers and they come usually with 5 of their closest friends. But not tonight. :D My son has a gig in Nashville and daddy is his body guard (he is 17 after all) Mamma's got the house to herself :D :D :D I'm gonna make dinner for myself and listen to the latest hauntcast while I work on props. Alone. That I have all the materials and tools for. Heaven Awaits :D
 

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I play with dead people
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I had great plans for this weekend. Pretty much going to have the house to myself. I'm not on call so I dont have to listen intently for my pager. Just me, the house, a bucket of MM, some chicken wire, burlap, foam, and big plans... and beer (Nectar of the gods:D). Ahhhhh life is sweet. As of about 30 minutes ago I am going to be on an assignment over the weekend. I get to sit in a car for 12 hours in a parking lot all tacticalled up. Cant run the air so I will be all hot and sticky. Cant go and pee sooooo will have to make due. At least it will be at night so it wont be as hot. Hopefully I will get some work done after I have been able to come home and nap a while.
 
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